☆HashiMada OneShots☆

Red Sky

busy, which meant Tobirama and Madara had been busy. He'd needed a getaway -- he'd wanted a getaway. And with the hunt for bijuu on the horizon, Madara knew they wouldn't have another break for months. Madara removed his right glove and ran his fingers through Hashirama's dark hair. It was the most intimate they'd been. Amidst the steam, they didn't have to hide. No one could see them.

"Let's soak. You look tense."

"I'm always tense."

"I'll give you a massage then."

Madara opened his mouth to argue, but he liked the thought of a massage, so he went to shower first, allowing Hashirama time to go through their closet to find complimentary yukata. By the time Madara was finished, Hashirama had laid out the pain navy yukata. Madara didn't wait for Hashirama to shower. He left his folded towel by the edge of the private spring and stepped into the water. He found a nice spot, back to the room, and closed his eyes. He heard Hashirama step out of the shower and join him, so he opened an eye to see the man. Hashirama had a cloth over his head and a serene smile on his face, looking even more like a teenager, instead of a twenty-two year old man. Sometimes Madara forgot their ages, especially when he spent time around the Senju. Hashirama made him feel young again. Hashirama caught him staring, so he didn't bother to look away. It was almost time for the sun to set, and Madara noted that they had the perfect view of the sky.

"You have your hair up again," Hashirama said, reaching out to touch Madara's dark hair, to lightly massage Madara's scalp. Madara made a small noise in response. He didn't mention that Hashirama's hair was also up. "I wish we could stay longer. I already feel more relaxed. Maybe we can plan these little vacations. Surely Tobi wouldn't mind."

"He hates when you call him that."

"He's not around to hear it, and I know it amuses you. You make fun of him when you think I can't hear you."

"Someone needs to." Hashirama burst into laughter and splashed Madara with water, so Madara tried to dunk the man into the water. If he meant to drown Hashirama, that was his own business. "I doubt you'll have many more of these vacations. It seems the Hokage deals with too much paperwork. You'll rarely see the light of day."

"Tobirama helps me. He doesn't know I sneak off to see you," Hashirama smirked, the expression so out of place. Perhaps he spent too much time around Madara, but that seemed impossible. "Thank you for coming with me."

"That's the fifth time you've thanked me in the last several hours. What did I tell you?"

"Not to thank you anymore."

"Exactly."

"I owe you an apology massage," Hashirama insisted. Madara kept shoving him away, but his grabbing hands eventually found Madara's shoulders and he didn't hesitate to start easing the tension from Madara's shoulders and neck. Giving in, Madara turned so his back faced Hashirama. "I bet it feels good," Hashirama smiled, leaning in close to Madara's right ear to speak.

Madara grunted in response and closed his eyes. He admitted to himself that the fool -- the nickname thought of with fondness -- gave a great massage. He almost felt as if he were moments away from melting into the water. The warmth and steam and embarrassment had his cheeks flushed, his mind foggy. Hashirama spoke to him again, words buried in the pleasurable haze. When Hashirama ceased speaking, Madara finally opened his eyes and turned his head. Hashirama watched the sunset, the colorful sky demanding their attention. The sky was red, and Madara's father had once said that a red sky at night was a shinobi's delight, promising good luck the following day. The light brought out the colors in Hashirama's eyes. Without any prompt, Madara let his sharingan eyes memorize the image of Hashirama. The man eventually noticed and smiled, expression just for him. His eyes turned dark again, sharingan gone, and he moved to massage Hashirama's shoulders, thinking of repaying the man. The problem was he was terrible, and Hashirama laughed at his attempts, which only fueled him more, until Hashirama was howling with laughter and pain.

"Please stop," Hashirama managed to get out, right hand reaching for Madara's hand. Without the gloves, Madara enjoyed the skin on skin contact between them. Hashirama turned around, leaned in, and kissed him. If there was hesitation on his part, Hashirama didn't communicate it with the kiss.

Eyes wide, Madara froze, but that didn't deter Hashirama. Arms wrapped around him in a loose hug. When Hashirama pulled back, he stared, still in shock. Hashirama covered his mouth with a hand and snickered. "What's so funny? You don't just do that! I wasn't prepared! Hashirama!"

"You're right. I'm sorry. May I kiss you?"

"No. You laughed at me."

"Alright."

"At least put up a fight!"

Hashirama placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in again, cutting off Madara's complaints. And that time, Madara closed his eyes and fell headfirst into the kiss. It was clumsy, both men inexperienced but determined and willing. The kiss had to end, and both men were breathless, Madara staring so hard into Hashirama's eyes that he almost missed the smile on the man's face. In a moment of bravery, Madara placed a hand at the nape of Hashirama's neck and pulled him in again. It was another small confession in a slew of unspoken confessions. And they made it work.